Above is a photo of what I kind of visualize Canute’s ship looking like. A more mature rating for this chapter for graphic depictions. Hope you guys enjoy!
The fleet of Viking ships had been on the open water for days. The first stretch of travel had seen mild weather, and Emma had tried to enjoy being out on the sea. Considering the last time she had been on a Viking boat it had been storming, she was thankful that it only lightly rained now. King Canute’s ship was larger than many of the others. A canopy hung toward the back for shelter, and allowed for them to stay dry from the rain. Benches lined the side where everyone sat, a small table sat toward the back where the king spent most of his time.
That is where he was now, as the steady pitter-patter of rain hit the canopy, he looked miles away. A pensive stare once again on his face.
There was very little Emma had gathered so far, but she knew they headed for Kent. She could only imagine what awaited once they landed on England’s shores.
The rain picked up, and thunder boomed in the sky. The ship began to sway more as waves crashed against it. She stood, not wanting to get soaked if she could prevent it, and moved toward the back of the ship.
Three women sat at a spindle. One decided present life, the other future, and the last held the events of the past. Each thread they wove ending and beginning life, determining fate, predicting what was to come. The great tree Yggdrasil stood tall behind them. A beacon of life and destiny. Future held one thread, weaving the string, until the end prevented her handiwork. Then Past took up the weave, adding a new thread, and connected it to what already existed.
~
Emma jolted awake, sending her glasses flying from where they had been perched on her book. A young man starred down at her; his face pinched in annoyance.
“Mam, I have to ask you to leave now.” She blinked through her grogginess, focusing on the clock at the far wall. Fifteen minutes past five o’clock. Damn it. Apparently, she had fallen asleep – long hours and the silence of the library lulling her into sweet oblivion.
